Context
by LittleWhiteTie
Summary: Shiro has been avoiding Allura. "I... I have feelings for you. When I'm around you, my heart beats too fast, and my breath catches, and it just… it just feels too much like…" His voice goes quiet, and she fills in the blank. Panic.


Allura looks forward to nights. She and Shiro spend a lot of them awake together, Shiro not being able to get back to sleep and Allura never sleeping all that much in the first place. Sometimes they talk; sometimes they sit in amicable silence, looking out at stars that don't twinkle. Sometimes she rests a hand on his arm, or they bump knees, or she leans against him, her head on his shoulder.

And then, just when she finds herself thinking about how she's never felt this close, this comfortable, with anyone before, it stops. He stops. He stops coming out to the deck at night, and he starts avoiding her during the day. He stops speaking with her unless it's absolutely necessary, and when he does his words are stilted and formal. He stops looking at her, only keeping eye contact for as long as he needs to.

She's worried about him at first, but as she continues to watch him, she sees he socializes perfectly well with the others – Keith, Pidge, Lance, Hunk, even Coran. _So it's just with her_ , she realizes, and she can't pretend that doesn't sting.

But Allura's nothing if not determined. She wants it back, whatever it was that they had, and so she tries. She tries, and she tries. But he declines every time she suggests they do something; he flinches away from her touches; he only responds to her attempts at conversation with one-word answers.

Once, she even tries dressing in a way that will get his attention. It feels like a cheap shot, trying to appeal to his base desires, but the opportunity presents itself: there's an event on one of the planets they visit that requires eveningwear, so she wears a dress she knows she looks good in. It's not immodest, but it shows off her bare shoulders and collarbone and there's a slit up the side that flashes just enough leg. It certainly gets Lance's attention. She had thought Shiro was at least somewhat attracted to her, given how she'd caught him staring before and how she used to make him blush (something she took great pleasure in). But Shiro doesn't give her a second glance, literally, and keeps his eyes off of her the entire night.

-v-V-v-

He leaves the room when she enters, and it's not the first time he's done this. She's had about enough. This time, she waits a few ticks and then follows him. He doesn't seem to have a destination in mind, just _away_.

"Shiro?" She calls out to him and he stiffens. She draws nearer as he stays stock-still, frozen, and she wishes she didn't feel like a predator circling in on its prey. "Shiro, have I done something to upset you?"

His stormy grey eyes look conflicted when they meet hers. "Of course not," he says, his breath hitching. There's plenty of space around them, but he looks like he's been cornered, trapped.

She tries to imbue her voice with gentleness. "Then why have you been avoiding me?" she asks softly.

He can't deny it, so he steels himself and he tells her, forcing himself to keep his eyes on hers.

"Because I… I have feelings for you," he admits. Her heart leaps, but his voice is sad and laced with regret. "When I'm around you, my heart beats too fast, and my breath catches, and it just… it just feels too much like…" His voice goes quiet, and she fills in the blank _. Panic._

She's initially excited by the idea that she can… activate his sympathetic nervous system… but then her heart sinks like a stone, down, down, down. She makes him feel the way he does when he has flashbacks or panic attacks or nightmares. Being around her _hurts_ him.

"So you want me to keep my distance," she says, trying to keep her voice level.

He looks upset with himself, remorseful, ashamed, but the answer is _yes_. "I'm sorry," he whispers.

It crushes her, but she nods and says, "Alright. Then I'll be as cold as you need me to be."

-v-V-v-

And so Allura keeps her distance. She knows how to do that – her royal upbringing has trained her well. She pretends to ignore him; she stays cool and stoic. She stops seeking him out, only speaking to him when she has to. She's civil, but nothing more.

The other paladins notice the shift in their dynamic and express their concerns, but both Shiro and Allura tell them nothing's wrong. This doesn't appease them, of course. She overhears them one day, speaking in the lounge.

"Maybe they broke up?" Hunk suggests.

"I don't think they were ever together," Pidge says. "Like, _together_ together."

"Okay, so Shiro professed his feelings for her, and she didn't feel the same way," Lance speculates.

"Probably," Pidge sighs. "Poor Shiro."

"Yeah, poor guy," Hunk agrees.

"How do you know he wasn't the one who rejected her?" Keith asks, and the others all make exasperated sounds.

"Seriously? You're so obtuse, Keith," Lance scoffs. "Anyone with eyes can see that he's head over heels for her."

"I have eyes," Keith huffs.

"C'mon," Hunk says. "You _must_ have seen the way he was always looking at her."

"And how, even after whatever's happened, he still looks at her longingly, just from afar?" Pidge says.

"Yeah, I… guess that explains some things," Keith concedes.

Hunk sighs. "I just want them to get together you guys. They are, like, _made_ for each other."

"Even _I_ want them to get together," Lance says. "But I guess it just wasn't meant to be."

Hearing their words makes Allura's heart wrench. She thinks of all the what-ifs and could-have-beens. But if this is what Shiro needs, then she'll keep doing it for him.

-v-V-v-

A week passes and Shiro doesn't seem like he's doing any better. Really, he seems worse. He doesn't look like he's slept in days and he barely smiles, even around the others.

One night, as she wanders the corridors of the Castle, she hears agonized moans and choked sobs coming from his room. His nightmare is particularly wretched that night. She doesn't hesitate. She can't help but go to him.

She enters the room and he's thrashing violently in his sleep. She's worried he might hurt himself, so she wakes him. She says his name once, twice, three times, and he bolts awake, gasping for air.

He's shaking badly and there are tears trapped in his long, dark lashes. She wants to reach out and touch him. Instead, she keeps her hands folded tightly in her lap and stays at the edge of the bed, away from him.

She waits there, the silence punctuated by his uneven staccato breaths. She watches helplessly while he shivers.

"Is the distance helping?" she finally asks softly, and they both know the answer is _no_.

"It won't stop," he says, his voice barely a whisper. He's never sounded so vulnerable. "The- the nightmares, the flashbacks, the panic attacks, they're- they're getting worse. I just- I just want to be able to breathe, for my heart to stop racing, but it- it won't stop…"

"Then let's change the context," she proposes. She looks at him meaningfully and understanding flashes in his eyes. He nods his consent.

Slowly, she puts her hand over his. "Is this okay?" she asks softly.

He tries to catch his breath. "Yeah," he gasps. She gently runs her thumb over his knuckles.

She waits for a few moments and then gradually moves her hand from his hand to his arm to his shoulder. "How about this?" she asks, and he nods.

Slowly, slowly, she slips her arms around him. "And now?" She feels his breath hitch, but he nods and she embraces him tighter.

They stay like that for a long time. She rubs soothing circles into his back. "You're safe now," she murmurs. "It's going to be okay."

Eventually she feels his muscles become less rigid and he slumps against her. His heart is still beating like a jackhammer, though, so as much as she wants to, she doesn't hold on for too long. She releases him once his breathing evens out.

"Allura," he exhales after a few ticks, formality and distance forgotten. He meets her eyes. "Thank you."

"I'm here for you whenever you need me, in whatever way you need me," she tells him sincerely. "You can come find me anytime."

-v-V-v-

He takes her up on her offer and he comes to her after that, finding comfort in her arms whenever he's panicked. She holds him until he calms down, but that's all. He doesn't seek her out apart from that, but it's okay, she won't push him. She's just glad he trusts her.

He comes to her increasingly often until it becomes a new ritual. As he remembers more and more of his time held captive by the Galra, the nightmares become a nightly occurrence. She hates that he suffers so, but a tiny, selfish part of her is happy that he's spending more time with her.

After a while, she suggests moving to a different bedroom: there's one with a hidden passageway connected to hers (one that, thankfully, Coran doesn't know about). He'll have his own room, but he can sleep in her bed - it's big enough for the both of them. She assures him that she won't go to bed until after he's asleep, but this way, when he wakes, she'll be there. He agrees. This will be better.

It's a good arrangement. He has someone to help calm him down, and she gets to spend time with him, hold him, feel his skin against hers. She keeps the pleasure she derives from this to herself. Even though they share a bed, she makes sure her actions stay platonic. No casual touches, no suggestive comments, no making him blush.

At least, she tries. One night when he comes to her room she forgets that she's dressed only in her undergarments, and it's only when he stops in the entranceway, stunned and speechless, that she realizes.

He swallows hard, and she can almost hear as his heartbeat changes. "I'm so, so sorry," she apologizes, quickly pulling on a more modest silk robe.

"I… it's okay," he stutters, his voice thick. She looks at him, sees the dusting of pink in his cheeks and the slack in his jaw, and she wants to be sorrier than she is.

-v-V-v-

One night, he has an awful nightmare, worse than usual. He pleads and he sobs, crying out in his sleep. He wakes up screaming. She's never seen him this bad before.

She holds him tight, and they wait and they wait for what feels like an eternity, but he can't seem to calm down. It's been far too long; his heart should have slowed by now, but it's racing fast as ever. His breaths still come in gasps.

He shifts and she can see him better, pupils blown, skin pallid, tears trickling down his face. He takes her hand and presses it to his heart. "It's not slowing down," he stammers. She knows this, but she doesn't know what to do.

He keeps his hand over hers, still pressed against his chest. "It's- it's not going to stop, no matter what I do," he says quietly, voice unsteady. "...I'm sorry I pushed you away."

"It's alright. You thought distance would help," she says, voice soft and understanding. She catches his gaze. "What would help now?"

He doesn't speak. Instead, he raises a trembling hand and touches her face. His skin is rough and his hand is unsteady, but the gesture is tender. She's not sure where this is coming from, but she hardly minds. She leans into his touch.

He leans in closer, the space between them shrinking until their noses are almost touching. She can feel his uneven breaths warm on her lips. There's fear in his eyes, but also something else she can't quite place. Her heart beats faster. "And now?" she whispers.

He lets out a shaky exhale. "We change the context," he gasps, before pressing his lips to hers.

He kisses her until she can hardly breathe either. He's still trembling, but his lips and his tongue are steady enough to take the lead. His hands shake but they know what they're doing, and she responds eagerly in kind.

He pulls her in closer, his heart beating double-time against hers, and he smiles.


End file.
